Should Have Been Mine
by UnintelligibleDrivel
Summary: Hermione is like a disease, sinking into Ginny's every pore. And the worst part is that she will never be cured. Kind of hard when Hermione and Harry just got married. F/F. Set a couple of years after the war.
1. Chapter 1

Ginny Weasley sat and watched the wretched ceremony. Or at least pretended to watch with a big fake smile plastered firmly on her face. Everything about her was fake today. Her joy, her heartfelt well-wishes to the happy couple, her entire life. Harry Potter was marrying Hermione Granger, and she could not believe it.

_It should have been me._

The Burrow's garden was especially beautiful today. The late-afternoon, July sunlight streaming down leant the whole wedding an unearthly glow. Everyone's faces shone with angelic brightness and Ginny could not recall seeing such a large gathering of people so happy in a long time.

The happiest of all were now walking down the aisle. They had decided that their wedding would be non-traditional, and the only reason that they had an officiator(known as a priest) was Molly's insistence. Harry was beaming broadly, unruly hair now tamed and his eyes sparkling with extreme joy. This was obviously the best day of his life. Hermione's smile was not as wide, but was there nonetheless, although Ginny could detect something not quite right in it, a sort of ever present _wrongness _that marred her beautiful face. No one else seemed to notice though.

Hermione and Harry walked very close, and the love between them was apparent.

It was not always so.

_Once upon a time it was me._

She remembered the lingering touches, the shy glances, and the sincere confession after the end of the war.

_It should have been me._

But she had spurned it. She had held the greatest treasure of all in her palms and had discarded it like it was worthless, nothing but unwanted filth. Now she new better, she knew its worth. Realization had come far too late however, and now she was left to wallow in her own self-loathing for giving up the one good thing in her entire damn miserable life.

_It should have been me._

The couple neared the altar, and it sickened Ginny to see them like this, it all felt so strange and surreal, like she was watching the whole thing through a stained glass window, dabbling everything in hues of longing and hatred. She hated everything right now, she hated everyone. She knew she had no right to feel this way, she had been the one to refuse the advances, she had been the one who cast it all aside. Now she was paying the price. Once more her eyes found their smiles and lingered on them.

_It should have been me smiling._

The priest finished his long, boring monologue about the love they shared, and Ginny wanted to puke.

"Does anyone have any objections", he asked the room in the voice of a man who had never received an answer to this question and who found it a perfunctory waste.

This was Ginny's last moment, the last time she could do something about this travesty.

Her last chance to save herself.

_This could be me._

But she was unable to speak. Her throat felt like it was the size of a pencil and she could force no words out.

"I hereby proclaim you husband and wife".

The words hit her like a bullet and ripped her numbness apart, replacing it with a horrific burning in her chest, in her eyes, hell in her entire body. It felt like she was being eaten by acid from the inside out, slowly fading into nothing but a shadow. And then she saw them kiss.

_It should have been me._

It was hours later, the pain was gone and the hollowness was back, but this time it consumed her entire being. Everyone at the party had commented that she looked like she had seen a ghost. She would laugh it off but she knew that she had. In the mirror. When she had glanced at her reflection it had scared her. She looked like a walking corpse. Her eyes seemed completely black in the shadow cast by the late afternoon sun, while her fiery hair and skin shone brightly, but without the health, vitality and the vibrancy she normally exuded. It shined rather with the accursed sunlight, and served only to highlight how unhealthily pale she had become.

She had been sitting by a stream that ran a few miles away from the Burrow for an hour now just staring out into the sky.

That was when she saw them. They had obviously come out here for privacy. Ginny knew she should just apparate away, probably out of their lives forever. That was what she wanted to do. That was what every fibre of her self-preservation screamed at her to do, but she couldn't. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to them and she was frozen in place, completely incapable of movement. She was forced to watch as they kissed.

_It should have been me._

But it wasn't. The couple now pulled away from the kiss and Ginny could see Hermione's face. Harry had his eyes closed and was leaning into her chest, and Ginny could swear she saw Hermione's smile falter when she looked down at Harry. She looked almost... Guilty.

Then she looked up and saw Ginny. Her face contorted into an expression of horror and Ginny could swear she saw tears in Hermione's eyes, was that _longing_?

Ginny would never know because at that moment Harry looked up and recaptured her lips and Hermione's smile returned, just as fake as Ginny's.

_She should have been mine._


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later...

She had no idea where she was. Not only emotionally but also quite literally.

The room she was in was small, dingy, and very dark. Most definitely not her room. The only similarity was the smell, which lingered somewhere between alcohol and melancholy. The first thing she noticed however was that she was not alone.

To her left lay a figure shrouded in blankets and its nudity became painfully obvious at about the same time Ginny's did. She hurried to get off the bed and get her clothes on. She couldn't keep doing this.

Every night since the wedding she had been going out and getting absolutely hammered. She knew it was the wrong way of dealing with things but hell it made her feel better. The only problem(aside from the obvious) was she would invariably, no matter how much she told herself she wouldn't this time, find any pretty brunette she could and take them home. Or more acccurately be taken home by one. She didn't want to be caught at it by one of her friends at her apartment. Her friends knew about Hermione, and they also knew about her little "habit", and they hated it. Luna especially would sadden whenever she brought it up, and Ginny felt awful when she saw her like that. Luna was her best friend and her shoulder to lean on whenever anything bad happened, and she knew that without Luna she would be in a far worse place.

She was about to apparate home when she recalled an appointment she had been forced into at Saint Mungo's. She also remembered that she was officially, as of last week, no longer supposed to apparate. She had reluctantly gone to Luna(who was a healer) for help and Luna had made her make an appointment to see a Healer Luna knew who specialized in problems with magic. Luna had obviously known what was wrong with her but she refused to tell her, stating the fact that she "didn't have enough experience" with this particular kind of sickness to explain it properly.

Ginny decided that by far her best course of action would be to find a muggle bus to take her to St. Mungo's. She went to the nearest bus stop she could find and waited. It was still early in the morning and the streets were surprisingly empty in this part of the city. When the bus arrived she got on, payed for her ticket, and went to sit down in the back of the bus.

She had to stop tears from running from her eyes for the umpteenth time as she remembered Hermione earnestly explaining how to use public transport. She could almost see Her laughing and flipping her hair over her shoulder, eyes bright with merriment at Ginny's ignorance. She always looked so beautiful when she was laughing. Her entire face would light up, and Ginny would be unable to remove her eyes from the girl's.

_Should have been mine._

Well she wasn't and Ginny refused to let Hermione torment her any more. She shut out all thoughts of Hermione and focused instead on getting off at the right stop.

Ginny had very limited experience of muggle London she decided to just get off at the bus stop near the Ministry and walk the rest of the way. Once she was off the bus Ginny was struck with a craving for coffee, just another bad habit Hermione had started. She found a coffee shop and ordered the usual, a large drip coffee, no milk or sugar. As she was waiting she noticed a figure in the back of the shop waving her over.

It was Harry.

_Oh no._

At this point she knew it would be rude to just leave, especially since she had stolled in leasurely and taken her time. Pretending not to notice him wasn't exactly an option either.

Ah well, what harm could it do.

She walked over to Harry with her best (fake) smile in place.

"Hi there Harry". She hated the faux cheery and carefree tone of her voice. She knew it sounded sincere to everyone else but she herself could hear the falsehood ring in every syllable. She detested it and wondered when she would be able to live free of the massive web of lies she had spun around herself to protect her.

_Probably never, or at least until I find a reasonable excuse to leave the country._

She chided herself for thinking that way but she knew it was true. Her natural optimism had been worn down into a vapour that rarely manifested itself and lately her thoughts had turned more and more to running away.

_Not running away, just moving on. _The little voice whispered.

"Hey Gin, how's life been treating you". Harry had his usual grin firmly in place and she could see his love and affection for her in his eyes.

Immediately she was hit with a rush of guilt. It wasn't his fault that Hermione was married to him. He had no idea that he was wronging or hurting Ginny in any way. He cared deeply for her and would never want to see her come to harm, emotional or otherwise. Hell he would probably have been willing to give Hermione up at the beginning of their relationship if Ginny had told him what happened between herself and Hermione, especially if he knew that Ginny still loved her.

Resolving to treat him better from now on she fixed her smile more firmly on her face, and this time a hint of sincerity managed to creep into her voice.

"I'm doing fine Harry, how about you". She hated how wooden her phrase sounded, like Harry was a distant acquaintance she had no interest in talking to.

"I'm alright". She looked down from the ceiling (which she ahd been focusing on) and saw that his smile had faltered.

"What's wrong Harry?", she inquired quietly, sincerely wanting to know the answer and sincerely wanting to help.

"Can you keep a secret?". His voice was hushed. All traces of his cheerfulness seemed gone, replaced by a melancholy she had not seen since before the war ended.

"Of course Harry".

He looked at her for a while before sighing.

"I dunno, I feel like I made a mistake".

_What?_

"What do you mean?". Ginny's curiosity was now peaked.

"I feel like I made a mistake when I married Hermione".

"What do you mean", Ginny stuttered, genuinely flabbergasted.

Harry just sat in silence for a while.

"We don't talk anymore, we just sort of coexist", he suddenly burst out.

"And when we do we just fight and argue".

_This is interesting._

"I feel like we don't really love each other, like we're just friends".

_Oh._

"Is that wrong, is it wrong to not want to kiss her, to not want to do anything beyond hugging her?"

He didn't even let Ginny answer his question before he continued.

"We haven't even had sex yet and we've been dating for two years and married for half a month, and the thing is I don't want to and can't imagine ever wanting to". His voice petered out into a mumble.

"What should I do Gin?". He was sad and fragile, Ginny could see the tears brimming behind his eyes.

"You're the first person I've told, please help me". He was pleading with her now.

Ginny was silent for a long time.

_Here is your chance._

But what if this is just a phase.

_A two year long phase?_

Yes, or maybe they love each other romantically but not sexually.

_That's insane, and you know it._

She loves him and he loves her, end of story.

_But how can you be so sure?_

I just am.

_She could still be yours._

Ginny was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of the door opening, and before she had thought it through she was answering.

"Harry, I honestly think you two can work this out".

_WHAT!?_

"Really?"

"Yes, I think you two work together wonderfully and I'm sure this is just a temporary hitch".

_DO YOU WANT TO SUFFER, DO YOU WANT TO KEEP HURTING YOURSELF._

"Thanks Ginny I needed that". Harry sounded so relieved that Ginny's raging internal voice stopped.

"No problem". She smiled.

"Anyway I have to get going now, I'm off to St. Mungo's". Harry seemed surprised at this before a smile spread across his face.

"I'm headed there too, you want to walk with me?".

"Of course Harry". She couldn't very well refuse him, but she was paralyzed that he would find out why she was there. She had a pretty good idea of why her magic had started to weaken, and if Harry found out he would not like it one bit.

"Wonderful".

The two got up and headed out, Ginny with her still untouched cup of coffee clasped in her hands.

They walked along in companionable silence until they reached the entrance to the hospital, which was a small, dingy, and disgustingly filthy elevator on the ground floor of a department store.

As they were on their way down into the hospital Harry turned to her and asked why she was going in.

"Routine check up, I still get nightmares from the war and I have to come in every now and then to get my potion and to have a Healer probe around". It was only partially true. She did in fact have to come in for the regular checkups to see if the nightmares were intesifying and to get her Dreamless sleep potion, but that wasn't why she was here today.

Harry reached the First Floor and left after thanking her again and saying goodbye.

When he had left Ginny sank down to her knees and began to cry.

_SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE._

Hermione filled her thoughts, she could barely breath or haul herself upright, the grief was too tangible. She was well aware that she had just solidified her own doom. Long ago she had lain the foundations for her hell and now the last fiery brick was in place her torment could truly begin. She had thought that the wedding was as bad as it would ever get, but this was worse. This time Ginny had a choice, and much like the first time she had cast away the chance of being with Hermione.

_She will never be mine._


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny would have liked to remain there, just lying in the elevator, but unfortunately she had to get to the Healer. She stood and dusted herself off. As she did so, she schooled her expression into her normal facade of cheeriness, though if her suspicions as to the nature of the disease were correct, the Healer would not be fooled.

When her clothes were spotless and her expression was passably normal, Ginny headed out of the elevator and onto the second floor of the hospital.

The hallway she stepped into was white and polished, lined with doors on either side, and had sunlight, either natural or magical, streaming in through many windows. Big white signs proclaimed the purposes of the various offices and wards, and their respective Healer's names. In the middle of the hall stood a booth behind which sat a bored looking middle-aged witch. The sign above her read 'Receptionist'. Ginny was about to ask her when she saw the name of the Healer she was looking for on a door to her left. Arthur J. Smethwick was a specialist in diseases and conditions that affected people's magic, and according to Luna was absolutely brilliant at what he did.

Ginny had been sceptical about the appointment at first, but when her magical prowess continued to decline to the point where she could barely use a Summoner anymore she became more accepting of the idea that something might be wrong with her.

She approached the door and knocked, not letting her nervousness show through. The door opened and an old man wearing St. Mungo's robes and a broad smile ushered her in and closed the door behind her.

"Please have a seat Miss. Weasley". The man had a very genial, robust voice which matched his rather vastly proportioned stomach and rotund red face. Ginny was immediately put in mind of an overripe tomato.

"Now your case is a rather interesting one". Ginny could see that. He seemed genuinely captivated by the file on her that he had just opened.

"You have almost never been ill, never had any problems with your magic, and have never been seriously injured. However you _do _have terrible nightmares after your experiences in the war". He continued after he had finished perusing the file. "I think that we have two possibilities that we can explore and I'm almost certain that I know which of the two it is. I am going to need to ask you a few questions however to eliminate the first one".

_Maybe not eliminate..._

"Would you say that your magic is strongly linked to your emotions?"

Ginny pondered this for a second.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean does your magical performance vary depending on how you are feeling at the time?"

"Yes". Whenever she got angry things would explode, when she got sad flowers would wilt, and when she was nervous she would put way too much power into her spells. Definitely yes.

"Alright then". He made an annotation on her file and she noticed the corners of his smile turn slightly downward. He looked back up at her.

"Have you recently experienced any sort of major emotional upheaval?"

_The books were right._

"Yes". This time her voice barely managed to squeeze out of her throat, she felt the crushing weight that she had managed to dispell come back with a vengeance.

"Did this upheaval involve any sort of, ah, romantic relationship?". This time his smile had completely vanished along with a large portion of the red colouring on his face. He looked highly concerned.

"Yes". it sounded more like a wisp of air than a voice. Ginny was fighting a burning sensation in her eyes that heralded more tears.

The Healer's face was now strained, and his concern had turned into full-out worry and there even seemed to be traces of sorrow. After a few seconds however, he composed himself and his face was alight with grim determination.

"Miss Weasley I am afraid to say that my original diagnosis was incorrect. I was under the impression that you were merely suffering a sort of magical fluctuation, where your own magic "hibernates", if you will. This condition is often observed in people who have fought in wars or who have jobs that require heavy use of powerful magic. It is fortunate that I decided to check because otherwise I would have told you to just take it easy for a few weeks. This would have been incredibly stupid of me Miss, because I now believe that you are suffering from something else."

"Fractum Cor". Ginny's soft voice cut in. She had feared this since she had started noticing her weakened magic about a week and a half ago, when she had researched it and had found this particular disease.

Smethwick regarded her in shock for a moment before opening his mouth, no doubt to ask her how she knew about the obscure condition.

"Don't bother with how I know, it is enough to know that I understand the causes and the consequences". Ginny liked Smethwick, she truly did, but she really did not want to have a discussion about her private life with the old man right now.

"Well then, I'm not sure what I CAN do for you, no one who has ever suffered Fractum Cor has ever gotten over it without, ah, solving their problem". The Healer looked a bit lost.

_Knew that all along._

Ginny didn't blame him. Fractum Cor was rare, it was unlikely that the Healer had even studied it during training, much less actually ever treated a patient with it. The condition was both psychological and physiological, and no one was exactly sure how or why it worked. All that was known about it was that it was literally shattered heart disease. Those afflicted with it were always magical, usually witches, and always had a strong link between their magic and their emotions. And if not cured they almost never survived longer than a year. Their own magic would be entirely out of their control and would wreak havoc within their bodies.

Ginny knew that the only known reliable cure was to have one's heart "mended" again. Like that was ever going to happen.

"I'm terribly sorry Miss Weasley". He didn't say anything else. He didn't have anything else _to_ say.

"Well I suppose this is it then". Ginny stood up and left the room, not heeding the man's forcedly jovial "Goodbye then Miss Weasley".

She was on autopilot all the way back to her flat. She just couldn't process the information she had just been given.

_I'm going to die._

And the thing was, she didn't care.


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny was scared.

She didn't fear death, but she had no idea what she would tell her parents, her siblings, Luna, Harry.

_Hermione._

After the jolt of apparition had faded away, she felt the all too familiar numbness sink back in and not for the first(or the last) time she welcomed it, relishing in not having to feel or think. It had gone from a cursed affliction to a comfort recently, especially whenever she remembered how messed up her life had become.

She walked down the street staring straight ahead of her, taking no notice of the warm autumn sunlight streaming down, or of the red and verdant leaves swirling down from above. Her flat was located in a small neighbourhood just outside of London, and she loved(or used to, when she still cared about anything) the way she could be within a single apparition's distance from a city center and still live in this gorgeous area.

Her stupor wore off just in time for her to see that she had reached her destination.

Her flat was not by any means the largest or the most attractive of places to live, but it was comfortable and it was better than her other options, which had all been appartments in the city.

_And this was closer to Hermione._

The house was a light brown color and had a grey, tiled roof, which was by now practically green with moss. Ginny walked up the leaf strewn path towards the front door, and she saw that it had been unlocked.

Ginny opened the door and was met by the sight of Luna Lovegood sitting at her oak kitchen table. She immediately noticed that the smell of alcohol had gone, and so too had the sources of the smell. After this revelation she also noticed that the entire place appeared to have been cleaned. There were even fresh flowers sitting in the window sill.

Her eyes fell on Luna.

She was wearing comfortable-looking blue robes and seemed to be caught up in a book she was reading. Her expression was one of intense concentration and she hadn't even noticed Ginny come in.

_She's beautiful. _Was Ginny's first thought as she looked upon her best friend in all the world.

And indeed she was, with her long and curly blond locks cascading over her oval shaped face, perfectly framing her startlingly blue eyes and her gorgeous light pink lips.

Ginny felt something stir as her mind was drawn to another pair of lips, a much fuller, redder, pair of lips.

_**Hermione was not looking her in the eyes. She had asked Ginny if they could talk at breakfast this morning and here she was, in the Room of Requirement(which was a comfortable sitting room). Now that they were here however, Hermione seemed reluctant to actually start. She kept gnawing on her bottom lip in a ridiculously distracting way, her hazel eyes shining with nervousness and something else that Ginny could not quite place.**_

_NOT NOW._

She was snapped out of her flashback in time to see Luna look up at her and form a bright smile on her face. She practically lit up the room.

" Hi Ginny, how did the appointment go?". The brief smile she had had when she first saw Ginny had vanished now, replaced by anxious worry for her friend.

"Hey Luna, I wasn't expecting to see you here. Thanks for cleaning my house by the way", she said, avoiding the subject of her diagnosis completely.

Luna, however, was not to be distracted and pressed on.

"Yes, your house was disgusting when I arrived and you weren't back yet, that is inconsequential however, what I came here to know is what is wrong with you". Luna's eyes were boring holes into hers, as if she could excavate the answer through sheer willpower alone.

"Alright then". Ginny let out a massive sigh. "I am suffering from Fractum Cor, as if you didn't know that". Her voice sounded bitter even to her own ears.

Luna's face fell. Her shoulders slumped and Ginny could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"I couldn't be sure". This time Luna's voice was subdued and faint. The last time Ginny had heard it like this had been at Hogwarts, when Luna had been alone and friendless and buried in a protective shell of oddness. It scared Ginny because the woman come far since those days, and the thouht of Ginny's own weakness hurting Luna was almost unbearable.

_Damn Hermione._

"I don't know enough about it to make judgements", Luna gulped, "and I guess I was hoping that I was wrong". Her voice broke at the last statement.

Ginny stood and headed to Luna's side, lifting the crying girl to her feet and slowly guiding her to the couch where she sat them both down and wrapped her arms securely around her best friend.

"It's alright, it's alright", Ginny cooed into Luna's ear. She slowly rocked her back and forth until she felt Luna fall asleep

They sat there for a long time, many hours at least, until dark had fallen and Ginny began to feel the usual cravings steal over her.

She wanted alcohol and women, and she wanted them now.

L

I

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B

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A

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After taking Luna back to her place, a small cottage in the countryside surrounded by vast fields of green grass, Ginny apparated to Diagon Alley.

It wasn't her favorite location, because she knew too many people there, but right now she felt the need for some firewhisky, and she wasn't going to get that in muggle London. She hurried down the Alley until she reached her usual frequent in the area, Club Pink.

Before she could go in however, a soft hand landing on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.

She knew the feeling that raced down her body and heated her entire being up until she couldn't stand it. The feeling of every sense and sensation magnified a thousand times over until each overwhelmed her in their own right. The faint smell of flowers mingling with fresh parchment and ink and a hint of cinnamon, the blurring of her vision with desire, the silken contact of slim fingers caresses lighting trails of fire wherever they landed, and a craving for a taste she had once had, in better, brighter days.

She would know Hermione Granger's touch anywhere.

**A/N: To the people who were looking for Harry/Ginny stories, I just want to know why you would click on a story that clearly says F/F.**

**To everyone else thanks for reading/reviewing.**


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